


Through scattered blood, I see

by skipper



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-01
Updated: 2012-07-01
Packaged: 2017-11-08 22:23:35
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,937
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/448187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/skipper/pseuds/skipper
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis takes a two week trip to volunteer in Africa. Harry opens his eyes to what he doesn't see.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Through scattered blood, I see

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what this nonsense is. I started it randomly when I should be writing other stuff. I don't care if you hate it, I'm not sure it's any good.

Louis has been there for a week before he actually sees Harry Styles face to face. He knows of Harry, everyone at the camp does, and Louis isn’t sure what he expects but this wasn’t it. He’s young, barely eighteen, if Louis has to offer his best guess. He’s tall, but a scrawny lad. Two weeks ago he might’ve made a joke about his lack of appetite, but after this week, the joke leaves him with no air in his lungs.

“Louis, right?” he asks matter of fact, no question in his eyes. Louis nods, walking quickly when Harry motions him forward, leading him behind the bags of food. Others are setting up for the lunch line, and Louis knows it’s going to be a long one by the way the sweating is sliding steadily down the back of his neck.

“Been watching you,” Harry starts talking, not even losing a breath with his quick pace, while Louis is puffing behind him. Harry turns when Louis stumbles, and he regains his step but the blush still creeps across his already warm face.

“Okay,” Louis remarks when Harry hasn’t continued. They walk around the shed, through the piles of supplies until they reach a jeep on the far side.

“Don’t get attached, Louis,” Harry says sternly. Louis is taken aback and he stops walking, his eyes searching for a missing joke that he doesn’t get, but he can’t find it. Harry sighs and slides into the driver’s seat, and Louis realizes he’s meant to get into the other side.

“We are we going?” Louis asks softly, gripping the edge of the doorframe as the jeep starts moving before he’s ready. They’re moving fast, much faster than the world around them. Since arriving, he’s only seen a handful of vehicles and even less of them moving, or even able to go anywhere.

Harry doesn’t answer and Louis gazes out the open window, the glass gone from its slot. They pass the fields and Louis feels so bad for the children they see, all working in the glorious heat, where Louis has discovered they’ll go with no food until their work is done, sometime before dark.

After they pass through a thick brush of trees, Harry slows his driving, beginning to move at a snail’s pace until he stops completely. Louis starts to get out, but Harry’s hand on his forearm stops him. Harry starts the jeep again, and turns the vehicle around suddenly, driving right into the trees. This time when he stops, he pulls Louis out of the driver’s side of the jeep, and they crouch low to the ground.

“Don’t move,” Harry hisses and Louis nods, closing his eyes, but he’s not sure what they’re hiding from. He’d been warned, signed dozens of papers before departing for Africa, but he never thought he’d fall into any trouble. Louis stiffens as the sounds of vehicles pass by the road, none seeming to slow for them. When they finally pass completely, he hears Harry breath quickly.

“Okay, we can go,” Harry says and Louis nods, standing when he does. They don’t get back in the vehicle, instead moving quickly, almost running towards where Harry had initially stopped. “Stay quiet,” Harry says softly and Louis nods, following a few paces behind him. They run a few more meters and Louis sees the hut, a crowd around the closest one and Louis knows with a heavy chest that’s the right they’re heading to.

Harry stops suddenly, wipes his palms on his trousers, and glancing to Louis, gives him a grim look before approaching the front door. He speaks a few phrases Louis doesn’t understand, but waves Louis to follow closely, his hand reaching but not grabbing him. He doesn’t know what they’re about to find, and he wishes Harry would’ve prepared him, given him some sort of notice.

The smell is the first thing Louis focuses on, and they’re not inside the small house yet. He swallows thickly and lowers his head, and wishes he hadn’t at the sight of the findings on the ground around their feet. Harry keeps moving, so Louis does, trying to keep his face firm with all those looking at him as he moves past the front entrance.

He hears crying, and Louis’ eyes grow wide, searching for the children in need, wishing he’d brought his medical bag. This is what he’s here for; he’s here to save all these children. It’s what he’s going to the University for, learning to be a doctor, to save people. They enter the final room, and Harry’s hand presses against Louis’ stomach, making them both stop.

Whatever thoughts Louis had about saving people fall away, and he knows he can’t. The child is crying brokenly, hands curled around her tiny abdomen as the liquid drips thickly through her fingers. She laying in her mother’s arms, but Louis knows she’s not there anymore, her eyes wide and staring up at the ceiling. He wants to breathe, but can’t. He wants to speak, but doesn’t if he’ll ever be able to again.

With several blinks of his eyes, Louis realizes Harry’s not there. He looks around, his gaze frantic, but finds Harry across the room, crouching in front of another child Louis hadn’t seen. He looks scared but Louis doesn’t know if he’s hurt. Louis wants to go to him, but can’t. Instead, he’s walking towards the little girl, who’s sobbing in her dead mother’s arms.

Louis makes a soft shushing noise, the most he can muster. His throat is thick when her eyes find his, the tears continuing to fall as she quiets her cries. Her eyes grow wide and Louis reaches to brush her scattered hair away from her face, and he’s suddenly thinking of his sisters. The thought of them in this position brings immediate tears, and he gently cups the girl’s cheek as he imagines her mother would.

She continues to hold her middle, and he wants to put pressure down, to stop the bleeding, but he knows by the sight of her eyes that it’s too late for her. He continues to stroke her cool skin, her eyes not moving from his, and he hums softly. His voice is shaky, and he struggles to stay calm for her. Her breaths are slowing and Louis can’t stop the panic that fills him, knowing what it means.

“Louis,” Harry speaks softly; his voice faraway and Louis can’t force himself to look away from the girl. She blinks slowly, her gaze moving away from Louis, her eyes lazy as her cries subside. Louis looks up, unable to feel surprised at the sight of Harry’s red-rimmed eyes. He’s holding a boy to his chest, but Louis can’t leave her, not yet.

“We need to leave,” Harry says quietly. Louis looks back down, ready to hum again, but he can’t. The hiccupped breaths that had been leaving her lips are gone, her glassy eyes closed, and Louis can’t help but think how peaceful she looks all of the sudden, as though there had never been any pain at all.

Louis pulls from her, his body tight as he follows Harry from the hut, the smell no longer a concern. None of it is. Harry stops walking just outside the door, his voice speaks unfamiliar words, and Louis hears the crack in his voice. Harry stops in front of an older man, and Louis watches as he passes the child off, but it struck by how still he is. With a thick breath, Louis realizes that child he thought was alright is gone as well.

They walk to the jeep in silence, and they’re just a few meters away when Harry suddenly leans forward. His hands cup his knees as he bends over, and Louis reaches for him when the first sob leaves his throat. He pushes Louis away and stumbles towards the vehicle. Louis watches as he leans against it, his hands gripping the metal as though begging it to take away what they’ve just witnessed.

“We were supposed to bring them back,” he suddenly speaks, his voice low and broken as he turns to face Louis. “His name was Geteye, and hers Fatimah.”

“I thought you said not to get attached,” Louis whispers, feeling unusually harsh. Harry nods and looks away, walking around to the driver’s side. Harry starts the jeep and Louis finally climbs in, feeling numb on the drive back to the camp. The drive seems much longer, and Harry’s reasons for moving so quickly to get there suddenly make sense.

“Do you see that a lot?” Louis manages to ask. Harry slows his speed and glances to Louis, his eyes not meeting his.

“Yeah,” Harry responds.

“And you’ve been here for years?” Louis murmurs and Harry nods, “why?”

“When you go home, are you going to be able to let go of Fatimah’s face?” he whispers, “the way she looked at you, calmed just before she died. Can you let go of that?”

“No,” Louis shakes his head, struggling not to release the tears in his eyes. Harry stares ahead, his jaw tightening as his hands grip the steering wheel.

“If I can stop one more child from having to give me that look,” Harry says quietly, “then I can’t leave. I can’t go home knowing I’ve got more to do here.”

“What if I said I needed to go home,” Louis asks, “what if I said I can’t deal with this, children, not older than my sisters, dying in my arms, what would you say?”

“I’m not asking you to stay, Louis,” Harry says with the shake of his head, “you’re here for two weeks, and then you go home, back to the university. I know the deal; I didn’t bring you with me to make you stay.”

“Then why did you?” Louis asks sharply, feeling anger and contempt towards this stranger he met merely an hour before.

“I wanted you to see,” Harry says simply. “You’re here expecting to save the world, but it’s not that simple.”

“Are you saying I can’t?”

“No, but you need to know what you’re up against,” Harry says quietly. He steps from the vehicle and Louis realizes they’ve stopped; they’re back at the camp. Everything’s the same, lunch is in full swing, but it’s different now. He sees the stagger of the crowd, how the older ones slouch and wince in pain, while the younger hold their bowls out long before they’ve reached the food.

A group of the children run to Harry when he approaches, the smallest gripping his leg and Harry pulls him up easily to rest at his hip. He grabs a piece of bread from the stack and gives it to the small boy. Harry’s hand moves to pat each of the children, their smiles reaching and he starts to smile, too. Louis stares until Harry looks up, finds his gaze, and he nods, an understanding.

Louis reaches the line, steps beside one of the pails of soup. Grabbing the ladle, he begins to pour out the contents, filling each bowl as much as he can. Each of the people he serves is in pain, they’re broken, but each of them smile and whisper words he doesn’t understand directly, but he understands all the same.

As another passes, their eyes meet Louis’ and with a staggered breath, he realizes he’s not going home. Several children pass, and one looks up, gives him a wide smile, one that fills his aching chest. Louis returns her young smile, and knows without a doubt, he’s going to stay.  


End file.
